Faraway, So Close
by Lothiriel84
Summary: McGee hoped that Director Vance knew what he was doing when he'd required Patrick Jane's services as a consultant on their latest case. - A huge thank you to MerriWyllow who kindly provided me with a nice plot bunny for this story, and agreed to beta it as well.
1. Timothy McGee

**Timothy McGee**

The last time he'd felt so uneasy under someone else's intent stare dated back to when he was still a probie. Needless to say, it had been Gibbs' stare back then.

Despite sharing his uncanny insight, this guy couldn't have been more different from Gibbs. He talked way too much, for one. And he seemed to enjoy teasing people, though he claimed to do it in order to gauge their reaction.

McGee hoped that Director Vance knew what he was doing when he'd required his services as a consultant on their latest case. A serial killer targeting navy officers was bad enough without having a loose cannon to deal with as well.

Still, the man was a valuable asset by all accounts. He'd recently brought a notorious serial killer to justice back in California, and that was the main reason why Vance had called on the California Bureau of Investigation to hand over their golden boy to NCIS – if only for a short while.

Tim had carried out a quick research on the CBI consultant prior to his arrival. Patrick Jane, 43, had lost his wife and daughter to the serial killer Red John. He'd spent the last ten years seeking a personal revenge on the man who'd murdered his family, albeit disguising it in a sociably acceptable manner – that is, working for law enforcement. He'd killed a man in cold blood though, only because he'd introduced himself as Red John.

However, in spite of being well known for his unorthodox methods and erratic behavior, Patrick Jane had eventually managed to get the better of his nemesis and send him straight to death row. It was unclear why he'd decided to hand the serial killer over to the police instead of exacting his revenge as he'd promised, but it was some sort of relief in a way.

McGee wasn't particularly keen on working with a crazed man after all.

"Would you be able to hack into top-secret government data as well?"

He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm just curious, that's all."

"I've actually done it several times already. But it's not… strictly… legal."

The blonde guy graced him with one of his Cheshire Cat grins. "I'm not going to tell anyone, I promise."

Then he went off, dropping a hint about an important errand he had to run. Tim had a shrinking suspicion that the aforementioned errand might have something to do with his ridiculous obsession with tea.

Why Patrick Jane couldn't drink coffee like everybody else was another of the mysteries that McGee had no intention to dwell on.


	2. Anthony DiNozzo

**Anthony DiNozzo**

"A circus act. That's what he is. A charlatan who's constantly pulling wool over people's eyes."

To say that Tony was beyond frustrated with Patrick Jane was not much of an understatement. He was sick and tired of being the main target of the consultant's antics – much to _McGeek_'s amusement, the traitorous snake in the grass.

Even his lover dropping a kiss onto his bare shoulder wasn't enough to mollify him tonight.

"You're a big baby, you know?"

"Ziva, don't you remember what he had the guts to say yesterday? _Your cocky behavior is just a way to hide your sense of insecurity, though you're probably unaware of that._ Yeah, Mr. Freud – for you're the poster boy for sensible behavior, aren't you?"

"Hey, cut him some slack. He's had his family murdered by a serial killer after all."

"That doesn't mean he's entitled to mock everybody else around him."

She ran a teasing finger along the line of his jaw. "He was only stating the truth, as a matter of fact."

He recoiled in horror. "What's this, a cheap remake of _Sleeping with the Enemy_? Don't make me want to kick you out of my bed, woman."

"We both know you'd never dare – let alone manage to do it."

Tony claimed her lips with his own, releasing some of his frustration that way.

"He knows about us, Ziva. Aren't you afraid that he might give our secret away?"

She shrugged, ghosting her palm across his chest. "You can insult him as much as you like, Tony – I'm sure he would never do anything of the kind."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"People who've lost their loved ones value love too much to meddle with it."

"His wife's been dead for the past decade. I bet he doesn't even remember what being in love with a living woman actually means."

There was a strange glint in her eyes when she spoke again. "I think there _is_ a woman in his life."

"Don't say you've fallen for that guy, or I won't hold myself responsible of my own actions."

Ziva slapped him on the head in true Gibbs fashion. "Don't be an idiot."

"How can you tell then?"

"Let's just say he reminds me of a certain someone."

Tony had never been able to resist her Mona Lisa smiles. That meant the whole Patrick Jane business got forgotten quickly enough, in favor of other – decidedly more pleasurable – activities.


	3. Ziva David

**Ziva David**

"What were you thinking? Damn, you almost got yourself killed!"

Ziva couldn't recall the last time she'd seen Gibbs so furious. That was probably because all of them were trained agents, while Mr. Jane was nothing more than a consultant – and one hired by another bureau too. Interagency cooperation ending up in tragedy wouldn't have made a good impression at all.

To his credit, Patrick Jane seemed mortified enough. Well, not exactly mortified, but rather… shaken. Getting so close to death was never a pleasant experience, but it seemed that he might have some special reasons for staying alive other than his own sake.

This actually confirmed her theory that there was indeed someone he deeply cared about. Probably a woman, unless she was very much mistaken.

She shot a brief glance at the suspect now lying on the ground with a bullet hole to his head. Mr. Jane was lucky that she'd always been a fine sharpshooter, otherwise he would be the one sprawled on the concrete right now.

When his grateful glance met her own she nodded in silent acknowledgement. After all, that was simply what she'd been trained for all her life.

(And if she'd also done a good turn to another woman by sending back her beloved safe and sound, that was in itself the best reward she could ask for.)


	4. Leroy Jethro Gibbs

**Leroy Jethro Gibbs**

Gibbs didn't need to turn around to know who his unexpected visitor actually was.

"Suit yourself," he remarked dryly as Patrick Jane strolled downstairs to his basement.

"This must be your thinking place. Well, I have to acknowledge it's much better than my own."

"What's yours?"

"A dreary attic in the CBI building. I don't do any woodwork though."

Both of them lapsed into silence as Gibbs went on polishing what would become the mast of his wooden sailboat. He knew from experience that sometimes waiting for the other person to talk was the easiest way about it.

"I'll take the first flight to Sacramento tomorrow."

"Good. I bet she's been waiting for you the whole time."

"What?"

He smirked. "Don't play dumb with me, sonny. I can tell when a man is in a relationship with someone."

Jane casually shoved his hands in his pockets. "You think?"

"I don't think, I know. Just like I've known about Agent David and Agent DiNozzo right from the start."

"What about that rule of yours then? It was number… twelve, if I'm not mistaken."

"I have one more rule that fits better in this case."

"That being…?"

"Rule fifty-one. _Sometimes, you're wrong_."

It was the younger man's turn to smile. "You seem to have a rule for every possible situation, Agent Gibbs."

"I may even have one for you. Rule number five: _you don't waste good_."

"Perhaps you're right."

Their eyes met at long last. "You could use a good old slap on the back of your head. It usually works with DiNozzo. Or you might want to have a word with Ducky instead."

"I think I'll have the latter, if you don't mind."

Gibbs shook his head and went back to his boat. He wasn't really one for giving relationship advice after all.


	5. Donald Mallard

**Donald Mallard**

"Ah. What's better than a properly brewed cup of tea?"

"I always make it with loose leaves. Teabags aren't exactly… _my cup of tea_, so to speak."

While they exchanged pleasantries, Dr. Mallard kept on unobtrusively observing the man currently sitting in front of him. There had to be a reason why Jethro had sent Mr. Jane to him – Leroy Jethro Gibbs never did anything without a reason, as a matter of fact.

His studies in psychology told him that this man was torn between conflicted feelings. It was as if Patrick Jane had never been through the whole grieving process, putting it aside in favor of his drive for revenge. Now that the man who had murdered his family was six feet under he was finally forced to face the whole thing.

Especially since there were probably other – and quite important – matters he had to deal with right now.

"So… are you considering starting a new life now that it's all over?"

Jane couldn't help but wince at that, and Ducky was sure he'd just hit a raw nerve. Maybe there was more to it than he'd thought at first.

"We're not just talking about a woman, are we?"

There was a long silence before the answer came at last. "No."

He nodded slowly. This actually explained a lot of things.

"That's why you accepted Director Vance's invitation to come over here. You needed time to sort out things on your own."

"More or less. Though Teresa was still in denial about being pregnant back then – she only took the test a couple of days ago."

"But you suspected already."

"I did. I've been a father before as a matter of fact."

"I see. And now you're feeling both guilty and afraid," Ducky remarked as he poured more tea into his cup. "Guilty because it feels like you're betraying your late family somehow. And afraid because you don't want the past to repeat itself."

Jane let out a heavy sigh. "What am I going to do?"

"You have to let the past go. Even literally so, maybe. Get rid of that house in Malibu, and make a brand new start."

"I'm not sure if it's going to be that simple."

"Your house has become a memorial of your tragedy over the years. You should even consider having it torn down – it might be a sort of catharsis."

The CBI consultant found a wry smile of his own. "Like a phoenix raising from its ashes?"

"That's it. That's exactly it. You could always offer the house to the local fire department for a training burn."

"I'll see what I can do."

The next step was entirely up to him after all.


	6. Abigail Sciuto

**Abigail Sciuto**

Abby really hoped she wasn't too late. What she had to say was way too important to tell it over the phone; that's why she was currently running across the airport terminal, looking for the now familiar figure wearing a three-piece suit.

In the end she literally stumbled upon him, though his sharp reflexes avoided her a ruinous fall. Not that she would have minded too much; it took a lot to embarrass her after all.

"Here you are!"

"Yes, here I am." There was more than a hint of amusement to Patrick Jane's voice, though she could tell he was still puzzled about the reason why she'd decided to follow him.

"You don't need to have your house burned," she blurted out. "A friend of mine would be happy to buy it instead."

"Well, I'm not sure it'd actually be a good idea."

"She's an architect. She always likes to think that houses are like human beings – they always deserve a second chance."

Jane smiled. "Sounds good. Tell her to call me, and we'll arrange something."

"I knew you would agree! And now, before I forget…"

Proudly Abby produced the shopping bag she was carrying. Her grin widened when the man in front of her extracted a stuffed cow out of it.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"It's for your baby. I'm sure he's going to love it. Or, well, she – if it turns out to be a girl."

That was probably the first genuine smile she'd seen from him. Then she proceeded to hug him in true Abby fashion, regardless of what the people around them might think about it.

xxx

Some six months later Abby received a snapshot of the newborn David Jane, fast asleep in his crib with her black and white stuffed cow right beside him.

There were only a few words scribbled on the back. _Thanks for your gift._

She broke into a smile and pinned the photo to her computer screen.


End file.
